


Fenrir

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday Presents, Eskel & Geralt are the best big brothers, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen, Jaskier can’t handle the cuteness, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Soft Lambert (The Witcher), Wolf Pack, stuffed animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26170783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: Jaskier uncovers one of Lambert’s deepest darkest secrets.He still sleeps with his favorite stuffed wolf.
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert & Vesemir, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Comments: 13
Kudos: 322





	Fenrir

Jaskier had been collecting dirty laundry from each of his Witcher’s rooms when he stumbled across the little stuffed wolf hidden amongst the pillows and sheets on Lambert’s bed.

He wasn’t sure at the moment if he wanted to cry or coo adoringly at the sweetness of such a thought. Lambert cuddling with a stuffed animal. Now that was absolutely adorable.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room, Buttercup?”

“Ah! Fuck!” How these mighty, muscular wolves managed to sneak up behind him so efficiently was still a wonder to the bard. “Oh, Lambert, my darling, I’m sorry.” He breathed a sigh of relief upon realizing his would be attacker’s true identity. “I was just collecting the laundry...I noticed your little friend hiding in the blankets. Does he have a name?”

“Get out.” Lambert snarled dangerously.

“Right, yeah, of course, I’m going.” Jaskier promised, picking up his basket of dirty clothes and hurrying from the room.

Geralt and Eskel were having a late lunch when the bard returned from scrubbing the dirt and blood out of all of their laundry, and despite his displeasure at the task, Jaskier still seemed to be in a very cheerful mood.

“I have questions for the both of you.” He declared, sitting himself down in the middle of Geralt’s lap and stealing a bite of buttered bread from his White Wolf’s plate.

“Hmm. Not at the table.” Geralt warned his bard, receiving an outraged look from Jaskier.

“Not the improper kind of questions!” The human corrected his Witcher. “I was just going to ask if either of you knew anything about Lambert’s sweet little stuffed wolf.”

Geralt dropped his fork down onto the plate before him and Eskel had to spit his half mouthful of wine back into its cup. 

“I take it you both know something of it then?” Jaskier raised a brow.

Eskel wiped his mouth, coughed, then grinned across the table at his brother. “He still sleeps with Fenrir.” He chuckled. “That’s sweet.”

“Hmm.” Geralt smiled softly, just a tender little smirk.

“Fenrir?” Jaskier inquired further. “Is that what he calls it? It actually does have a name?” His heart felt like it could fly from his chest it had inflated so far!

“That’s what Geralt and I decided to call him when we were little.” Eskel explained. “Fenrir was ours first. Vesemir brought him home for us after he came back to the keep from a supply run in Kaedwen. He found some talented seamstress in a little village who could sew a lot more than just dresses and doublets.”

“And he had a little wolf made for you both?” Jaskier could feel his eyes wetting with hot tears. “That is the most endearing thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Hmm.” Geralt confirmed, moving Jaskier on his knee so that he could get to his drink. “Eskel and I shared Fenrir for years. Then we passed him down to Lambert for his eighth birthday.”

...

“Can we eat the honey cake now?” Lambert sighed, tapping the table with his little hands miserably as Vesemir plucked eight smoking candles out of white sugar frosting. Making a birthday wish was always the worst part of this stupid day.

“Now, now, my lad, have some patience.” The elder witcher smiled at his youngest son. “You need to open your gifts first.”

“What for?” Lambert whined. “The only people that get me stuff are you and Geralt and Eskel. Can’t I open presents tomorrow? I want my birthday to be done now.”

“Now why is that, my boy?” Vesemir frowned. “This is a special day. Cause for celebration.”

“No it’s not.” Lambert growled before Geralt and Eskel came back from their rooms to join their father and little brother. Eskel was holding an improperly wrapped box with an oddly tied ribbon adorning it’s top.

“Happy Birthday, Little Wolf!” He declared, setting the gift down in front of Lambert while Geralt watched and waited with eager eyes.

“Open it.” The snowy haired Witcher urged his baby brother. “We got you something special this year.”

Vesemir sent a warning look over to his eldest pups.

“It’s not a knife this time!” Eskel quickly promised their father while Geralt helped Lambert to undo the troublesome ribbon wrapped around his present.

“It better not be a bow either.” Vesemir muttered at Eskel, keeping a watchful eye over his smallest pup. “Or a sword, or a dagger of any kind.”

“No weapons.” Eskel promised. “It’s just...”

“You’re giving me Fenrir?” Lambert interrupted, sounding quite surprised, but somewhat touched at the same time, reaching down into the box and pulling out the old, worn stuffed animal. 

Fenrir had seen his fair share of Winters by now, and the many knicks and scars his smiling face bore rivaled those of the old master witchers.

He himself was quite old now, having been the favorite toy of both Eskel and Geralt when they were even younger than Lambert. He’d spent so many years in the arms of both witchers that he now smelled permanently like the both of them, and sometimes, when he was lonely and upset and missing his big brothers, little Lambert had begun to swipe Fenrir out of their rooms to cuddle with until Geralt and Eskel returned home for the Winter.

“We thought he’d be safer here with you in the keep.” Eskel reasoned with the boy. “Geralt and I couldn’t bear to take him out on the path. Some bandit might steal him.”

“A bandit or a monster.” Geralt nodded in agreement with his brother. “You’ll take good care of him, won’t you?”

Lambert nodded, hugging the wolf close before reaching out for Geralt.

His brother picked him up without hesitation and smiled as little arms wrapped around his neck for a tight embrace.

“I’ll keep him safe.” Lambert promised. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Little Wolf.” Geralt squeezed his little brother in his arms then passed him over to Eskel for a second hug.

“Happy Birthday, Kid.” Their eldest brother chuckled, holding Lambert tight then ruffling his hair once he’d sat him back down.

Vesemir smiled fondly at his sons. “Well done, pups.” He jested at Geralt and Eskel. “Makes my gift a lot less exciting now.”

Lambert returned to his seat of honor in front of his birthday cake, holding Fenrir tightly and pressing his face against the wolf’s plush fur. 

“This is my favorite present ever.” He declared.

The elder pups were quite proud of themselves.

...

Jaskier sniffled and wiped at his eyes. “That is the sweetest story I have ever heard.” He whimpered at Geralt and Eskel, swallowing down a sob that threatened to escape his throat. “Oh, and he still keeps his wolf in his bed to this very day! How incredibly precious...”

“Don’t tell him we told you.” Geralt warned his beloved. “He’ll be embarrassed.”

“Or furious.” Eskel scoffed. “Probably both. I’d rather not have my balls kicked off my body today, if that’s alright with you, Lark.”

“Oh, my darlings, you have my word.” Jaskier promised, making a locking motion against his mouth and throwing back his arm as if tossing away an imaginary key. “My lips are sealed!”

Of course that didn’t stop the bard from peeking in at Lambert later that night as he slept, and sure enough, Fenrir, the old stuffed wolf, was cuddled up in the young witcher’s arms.

Jaskier resisted the urge to squeal and tip toed as quickly as he possibly could back to Geralt’s room. The White Wolf didn’t get much sleep that night. Jaskier just wouldn’t shut up, endlessly gushing over Lambert and how absolutely adorable he was.


End file.
